Three Conversations
by inkstainedfingers97
Summary: Darcy sighed. Only Patrick Jane could make a peace offering so… annoying. Post ep for 4x24.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is for fun and no money.

Spoilers: Everything through 4x24.

Summary: Post ep for 4x24.

**Three Conversations**

Agent Darcy was writing up her report on the events that had taken place in Nevada when Patrick Jane showed up in her office at 10:37 in the morning. He didn't have an appointment and he didn't knock.

Of course.

"Good morning, Agent Darcy," he greeted her cheerfully, blasting her with one of those megawatt smiles that seemed to charm everyone in his path.

No need to ask how he'd gotten past her assistant, then. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Patrick," she said coolly.

His smile faded ever so slightly. "Still upset, I see."

"You interfered with my investigation."

He smiled again. This one wasn't so charming. It was cold to the point of chilling. "You interfered with mine."

"The thing is, Patrick, you don't work for the CBI anymore. You were fired six months ago. So your investigation counts for exactly nothing with me."

He raised his eyebrows in turn. "It counts for nothing that it got us closer to Red John than we ever have been before?"

"How exactly do you figure that, Patrick? Your debacle in Nevada didn't get us anything but a witness who won't talk and a good man killed in the crossfire." She trailed off, thinking of Wainwright bound in the back seat, a bullet through his head. She hoped to God she never found out whether it had been one of her rounds that had dealt the killing blow.

"Wainwright dying wasn't your fault, Susan," Jane said.

"No. It was yours," she said sharply.

"Believe me, I'm well aware of that," he said quietly. This surprised her. She expected him to deny it, to turn it back on her. For a moment the mask slipped and she thought she saw a glimpse of the true Patrick Jane for the first time. He was a very weary, very sad man.

He sighed. "Look, I didn't come here to rehash my mistakes with you. I took a risk with the whole plan, and it ended up costing more than I could have imagined." She got the feeling he wasn't just talking about Wainwright.

She sat back in her chair. "Why did you come here?"

He ran his fingers over her desk, picking up a paperweight and examining it, then picking up the picture of her sister on her desk and peering at that just as closely.

"Put that down," she said sharply.

He obeyed, setting it down exactly where it had been a moment before. He met her eyes. "I came here to convince you that I'm not working for Red John."

She blinked. She hadn't expected that. Truthfully, she'd kind of started to rethink that theory when she'd seen the psychotic female obviously under Red John's command trying to cut off two of his fingers with a pair of garden shears. "Is that so?" she said neutrally.

"Yes."

"Thought you didn't need to prove that."

He gave her a withering look. "I don't."

"So why tell me this now?"

He fidgeted, ever so slightly, and Darcy stared, fascinated. He'd never betrayed so much in front of her. "Just wanted to make sure we're square."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "I don't think so. Try again."

He glared at her. "Fine." He seemed to undergo a serious internal struggle, and then he said, "I tampered with the evidence in the Panzer case."

Well, she hadn't been expecting that, either. "You did what?" she said, aghast.

He sighed. "I manipulated the evidence to make it seem like that girl's father killed Panzer. He never killed anyone. Red John killed Panzer, and I doctored the evidence so no one would find out."

She shook her head. "That may not have been the best thing to lead with if you're trying to convince me you're not working for Red John. Why would you do all that to protect him, if you aren't working for him?"

"I told a courtroom full of people that I killed Red John, and a jury decided to let me go free. If I admitted that the man I killed wasn't Red John, it's almost certain I would be thrown back in jail."

She looked at him appraisingly. "You know I could have you brought up on charges for obstruction of justice for what you've just told me."

He smiled slightly. "Obviously, I'm hoping you won't do that."

"Betting that I won't is a pretty big gamble. Why would you take such a big risk just to tell me that?"

He gritted his teeth. "I'm trying to make amends."

"You don't give a rat's ass about my opinion. Why would you go out of your way to make amends with me?"

He glared at her. "I never said I was trying to make amends with *you.*"

He was definitely agitated. He wasn't happy about telling her all this, and being here was not his idea. And if he really wasn't in league with Red John, that left one person. She sat back. "Why don't you tell me why you're really here, Patrick?"

"I told you. I came to tell you I'm not working with Red John."

"That's what you came here to do, but it's not what motivated you to come. Care to share what the real reason is?" She had a pretty good idea what it was, but she was enjoying having him in a place where she had one over on him, for once. It wouldn't kill him to admit it.

He scowled. "Lisbon made me come," he said, sounding for all the world like a petulant little boy.

"Ah, confession is good for the soul, isn't it?" she said with a smirk.

"Usually I find it's better for getting a punch in the nose," he muttered.

"Don't tempt me," she said dryly. She smiled at him. "So, Lisbon, huh?"

He looked back at her, still looking very put out. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I owe you an apology, Patrick. It seems you're not quite the sociopath I thought you were."

"How do you figure that?" he said suspiciously.

"Well, obviously there's at least one person in the world you care for quite a bit, or you wouldn't have allowed yourself to be railroaded into coming here against your will."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Lisbon and I are good friends. Of course I care about her."

Boy, for a professional charlatan, he really had a bad poker face when it counted. "Of course. Just like you care for everyone else on your team. The exact same amount. No more, no less."

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "That's right."

"I suggest you work on being a little more convincing when you say that if you expect to keep that secret a little longer."

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. "I think that ship has sailed, actually."

"Oh? Lisbon already knows?"

"No. Or, not exactly. I may have slipped up a little bit, but I think I have that covered. I was actually referring to Red John."

"What do you mean?"

"He was very explicit when he was trying to get me to meet him. He asked for her head as a gift. That was when I knew he must suspect that I—" he stopped.

"Have feelings for her," she supplied.

"Yes," he said grudgingly.

"Plus, he sent you a Lisbon look alike for a present," she observed.

He squinted at her. "What do you mean?"

"Lorelei Martins."

"Lorelei?" he scoffed. "She doesn't look anything like Lisbon."

"Tiny, tough, dark haired, and beautiful. No, you're right," she said sarcastically. "There's absolutely no resemblance whatsoever between the two of them."

He looked appalled. "You think he sent Lorelei because he thought I'd… what, want to be close to some kind of Lisbon proxy?"

"Are you telling me that he wasn't at least a little bit right about that?"

He looked sick. "Well, that's a whole other level of disturbing I hadn't considered." He barked a short, harsh laugh. "There I was thinking I was so clever by leaving her behind. Looks like he was two steps ahead of me the whole time once again." He buried his head in his hands. "I'm so stupid. Six months…"

He looked up at her. "You have to help me protect her. You can do what you like to me. Throw me in jail, I don't care. Just help me keep her safe."

"Jane, Lisbon is a big girl and one of California's finest agents. She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and she won't thank me for trying to interfere."

"I don't care. You don't understand what he's capable of. He knows she's important to me. He'll try to use that against me."

"Look, Jane, I'd like to help. I really would. But I'm not sure what you want me to do. Put a detail on her? I can do that, of course, but only if she agrees to it. Somehow, I don't think that she'll be wild about the idea."

He sighed. "Probably not. But maybe you could talk to her. Convince her."

"She's hardly likely to listen to me, of all people."

"What does that mean? 'Of all people?' Why shouldn't she listen to you?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

He looked at her shrewdly. "You were wrong, you know. About what you said to me a few months back."

"Wrong about what?"

"Lisbon. She doesn't dislike you."

"She does, but it really doesn't matter—"

"She doesn't. It's because she's a terrible liar," he interrupted her.

"Excuse me?"

"She's a terrible liar," he repeated.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I wasn't sure what had made you think that she disliked you, at first. Then it occurred to me you might have gotten that impression because she avoids making eye contact with you whenever possible."

Darcy was silent.

He smiled at her. "She doesn't dislike you. She was trying to protect me, and she was afraid that if she looked you in the face, you would guess that she was lying about Red John being dead."

"So Lisbon has known that he wasn't dead this whole time?"

"Pretty much."

"How'd she find out?"

"I told her right after the trial."

Well. They really were even closer than she'd thought. "So you knew during the trial. Did you know the man you shot wasn't Red John when you shot him?"

"No. He told me he was Red John, and I believed him. It was only afterwards, when the gun he had in his newspaper went missing that I realized that he wasn't Red John. Red John was the only person who would have any reason to make it look like I killed an innocent man, so obviously the man I killed couldn't have been Red John."

"Obviously," she said dryly.

"Anyway, the point is, Lisbon doesn't dislike you. She respects you, and she hates the fact that we've been lying to you this whole time about Red John being dead. That's why she couldn't look you in the eye. She's too honest." There was an obvious note of affection in his voice as he said it, along with a hint of pride, like he was proud that someone so honest was willing to call him her friend. He really had it bad.

Well, this made her life easier. "All right. Well, I'm happy to talk to her, and see if we can't get her set up with a protective detail, at least for a little while. I still think she'd rather hear it from you than me, though."

Jane snorted. "Believe me, I'm about the last person in the world Lisbon would listen to regarding matters of personal security."

"Your team, then."

He didn't answer.

"Ah. Already asked them, huh? You're just covering all your bases."

"Well, yes."

"Very well. I'll speak to her."

"Thank you."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "What are you going to do for me in exchange?"

He feigned innocence. "In exchange?"

"Yes. You're too smart to come in here and ask me for a favor without being ready to bring something to the table yourself. So what's it going to be?"

He sighed. "Look, I'm not going to promise to tell you all my plans. It was a mole in the FBI who ruined my last plan, so I'm sure you can understand my reluctance to share. But I will tell you everything you want to know about the Panzer case and I will provide you with my insights on Red John free of charge. And I will let you know if there is anything you should be aware of, as we move forward, as long as I have your assurance that you keep it to yourself and do not record anything I tell you in any official capacity."

"That bargain seems to leave you with a lot of room for interpretation on your end," Darcy remarked.

Jane shrugged. "Take it or leave it."

She looked at him. "How do you know you can trust me? How do you know I'm not the mole?"

He laughed. "Because, Susan, you suffer from the same affliction that Lisbon does. Honest eyes. You can't conceal your passion for justice worth a damn."

"Well, I still don't trust you as far as I can throw you," she told him bluntly.

"Lisbon would say that's very wise of you." The bastard was still laughing at her. "So," he said. "Are we friends again?"

She looked at him askance. "Let's just call it a collegial professional relationship and leave it at that, shall we?"

He beamed at her. "As you wish." He scooted around the desk and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Susan."

And he was gone.

She sighed. Only Patrick Jane could make a peace offering so… annoying. Still, it was better than trying to work against him. She smiled a little to herself. At least now she had some leverage over him. After all, he'd practically tattooed on his forehead how much he hated disappointing one Teresa Lisbon. So if things got really bad, she could always appeal to that other agent with the honest eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Her assistant knocked on her door later that afternoon. "Your one o clock is here," she announced.

Darcy looked at her blankly. "My one o clock?"

"Agent Teresa Lisbon."

Darcy frowned. "I don't remember having a meeting with Agent Lisbon."

"She called twenty minutes ago and asked for an appointment. You had an opening so I told her she could meet with you at one o clock."

Darcy glanced at the clock on her desk. It read 12:59 and 57 seconds. She sighed. "Show her in."

Lisbon came in a moment later, her hair in a long ponytail down her back and wearing a fitted leather jacket that reminded Darcy how small she really was. It was funny, because even though objectively, she knew Lisbon to be a woman of diminutive proportions, she never really thought of her as smaller than herself, though she, Darcy, was easily a head taller than her. Somehow Lisbon seemed to fill up any room she inhabited with her energy and focus. She held herself with such an aura of command that even the biggest and baddest of the good old boys had a tendency to straighten up and listen when she spoke. Tiny but tough, indeed.

Seeing her now, though, Darcy was struck by how young she looked, though given her tenure and position at the CBI, she couldn't have been more than a few years younger than herself. Her face was devoid of makeup, making her look even younger. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, as though bowed under a great weight. Her pale face contrasted with the dark shadows under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. Possibly months.

Lisbon betrayed none of this, of course. "Hello, Agent Darcy," she said calmly. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."

Darcy nodded her acknowledgment. "Of course. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." Lisbon sat down wearily.

Darcy studied her with interest. "What can I do for you, Agent Lisbon?"

"I wanted to thank you. For helping us. For saving Jane, in the desert."

It was a sticky moment. Both women knew that Darcy had been very close to tossing Lisbon in the back of a squad car in handcuffs, which almost certainly would have left Jane two fingers lighter, if not dead. It must have cost Lisbon a great deal to humble herself by saying this, when Darcy knew that she had nearly wrecked their whole operation, ill-advised though it may have been.

"I'm glad it worked out," Darcy said finally. She thought of Wainwright again, and Red John's conspicuous absence from the scene. "Sort of."

Lisbon gave her a wry smile. "I know what you mean. Believe me, I know how frustrating it is."

Darcy didn't acknowledge this. She was still brooding about Wainwright. He was so young. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes." Lisbon fidgeted. "I need to tell you something."

Darcy gestured at her to get on with it. "I'm listening."

"Jane isn't working for Red John."

"That's what he told me."

"I know. But I need you to believe him."

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "And why should I do that?"

"Because it's the truth. Jane would never help Red John."

"Yet I have every reason to believe he manipulated evidence in the Panzer case to cover up Red John's involvement in the affair."

Lisbon sighed. "Yeah. He did do that."

"You know this for a fact?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that?"

Lisbon met her eyes. Patrick was right. She did have clear, honest eyes. "Because I helped him do it."

This surprised Darcy. Not that Lisbon had helped him, necessarily, but that she would admit it to her. "I could have your badge for telling me that," Darcy said slowly. "Why tell me?"

"Because I need you to understand why he did it."

"Why did he do it?"'

"He did it to protect you."

"To protect me?" Darcy repeated skeptically.

"Yes."

"What does Jane tampering with evidence have to do with me?"

"Red John threatened you. The only thing Jane could think of to keep him from attacking you was to make it look like that girl's father killed Panzer and allowing Red John to stay hidden in the shadows." She placed an unmarked DVD on the desk in front of her. "If you don't believe me, I have evidence that Red John was intending to come after you."

Darcy looked at it, then picked it up and put it in the CD drive of her computer. It wasn't long. She got the idea pretty quickly. Red John's words echoed in her head. _She's cute. This is going to be fun._

She looked up to find Lisbon watching her. "I'm sorry," the CBI agent said softly. "I never wanted anyone else to be dragged into this nightmare."

There wasn't anything to say to that. "Jane saw this?" Darcy asked instead.

Lisbon nodded. "He was pretty freaked out. He came up with the idea to pin the Panzer murder on the girl's father not long after that. He thought if he could get you off the case, Red John would leave you alone."

Judging by the fact that Darcy was still breathing, Jane's plan had worked. "Jane never told me that."

"No," Lisbon agreed. "He wouldn't."

"Why the hell not?"

Lisbon hesitated. "Jane… doesn't like people to see the good sides of him. I think deep down, he believes that he deserves to be hated by people. So he goes out of his way to provoke those reactions and hides the good things he does. You know what he's like. Always a glib answer for everything. It's like he doesn't want to be caught trying. He doesn't want to be caught caring."

"But you see this… caring side of him?" Darcy said.

"I've known him a long time," Lisbon said simply. "No one can hide themselves that completely."

"Unless they are a complete sociopath," Darcy pointed out.

Lisbon fidgeted. "Look, I know what it looks like. Hell, if I was in your place, I'd probably think Jane _was_ Red John. That he's been playing us for fools all along, insinuating himself into investigations, messing with evidence." Her mouth turned down. "Disappearing for months on end without a word to anybody."

Darcy arched a brow. "So why do you think he isn't?"

"I know him," Lisbon repeated. "It's true, he has a ruthless streak. It scares the crap out of me, sometimes, to be honest. But I know for a fact that he would never help Red John. His whole life is about bringing him down. I would stake my life, and the lives of my team on that. He's a pain in the ass, and aggravating as hell, but he's not a bad person. He cares about justice, and he has a soft spot for protecting the innocent. He's a good man, underneath the tricks and the lies."

Her conviction was compelling, but as it happened, her argument wasn't necessary. "I believe you," Darcy told her.

Lisbon looked at her sharply. "You do?"

"Yes."

Lisbon looked shocked. "Why?"

"Jane came to see me this morning. He told me he wasn't working for Red John, and I believed him."

"Jane came to see you?" Lisbon said, astonished.

Darcy frowned. "You seem surprised. I was under the impression that you were the one who asked him to come here."

"I was," Lisbon said, bemused. "I just didn't think he'd actually do it."

"I could see he wasn't exactly happy about it, but he seemed determined," Darcy told her.

"Determined to do what?" Lisbon said suspiciously.

"To get you to forgive him, I think," Darcy said.

"He said that?" Lisbon said incredulously.

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "What do you think?"

"Right," Lisbon muttered. "Of course not."

"Well, anyway, he didn't exactly come right out and say so, not in so many words, but you don't exactly have to be Sherlock Holmes to see what he was up to, in this case."

Lisbon frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It was pretty obvious that something happened between the two of you." At Lisbon's noise of strangled protest, Darcy continued as though there had been no interruption. "Naturally, I don't know the details, but I'm assuming it has something to do with his six month 'leave of absence.'"

This comment was met with stony silence and a slight flush creeping up Lisbon's neck. Jane was right. The poor woman couldn't lie worth a damn.

Darcy went on. "Anyway, he said something about making amends. I can only assume he meant he was trying to make it up to you for whatever it is he did while he was gone."

"Or didn't do, as the case may be," Lisbon muttered. She looked furious. "God! This is so like him. I practically begged him to come here, and he told me to my face that he had no intention of begging for favors from the FBI like some milksop. He said you could arrest him, for all he cared, because it would serve you right for wasting your time when you should be chasing the real killer!" She got out of her chair and started pacing, as though this would help her release some of her pent up rage.

"So, you're not happy he did what you asked?" Darcy said, confused.

"Of course I am," Lisbon snapped. "But why the hell didn't he just tell me he was coming here, instead of letting me worry myself sick that the FBI was going to throw him in jail because he was too arrogant to admit that he was wrong?"

Apparently, the question was rhetorical, because she didn't seem to expect a response.

"He's worried about you," Darcy informed her.

Lisbon stopped pacing. "What?"

"He asked me to put a protective detail on you."

"A protective detail?" Lisbon echoed.

"Yes. He believes your life is in danger, and he seems rather desperate to make sure you are protected."

Lisbon couldn't think of anything to say to this.

"How about it?" Darcy asked her. "I don't think it's a bad idea."

Lisbon shuddered. "What, having a couple of guys in suits follow me around everywhere, watching my every move?"

Darcy shrugged. "It could be worth it, if it keeps you alive."

"You think it's necessary?"

"I do. Jane's right. It seems that Red John is very interested in you."

She snorted. "Yeah, I sorta guessed that when he asked for my head in a box."

"Did you think about why that is?"

"I'm the lead agent on the team investigating him," Lisbon said, with the air of someone pointing out the obvious.

"Yes. And you also happen to be just about the only thing left in this world that Patrick Jane truly cares about. I can't believe that's a coincidence."

Lisbon stared at her. "You think Red John is planning to target me to get to Jane?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it? It doesn't seem that Jane is in any danger of losing his life. Red John could have easily had him killed in this most recent misadventure and didn't take the opportunity. Don't you have a theory about why that would be?"

Lisbon nodded. "Red John doesn't want Jane dead. I think he finds Jane interesting. He doesn't want to lose him. He'd rather keep him alive to suffer."

"So if Red John is interested in seeing Jane suffer, it's pretty logical that he would go after you, isn't it?"

"No," Lisbon said stubbornly. "Jane doesn't—doesn't feel like that—about me."

"Lisbon," Darcy said gently. "He does. And Red John knows it."

"No," Lisbon said sharply. "We're friends. Maybe Red John thinks otherwise, I don't know. But it doesn't change the facts. If he cared for me like that, he wouldn't have- " she stopped abruptly.

"Left for Las Vegas for six months without leaving you a word?" Darcy said skeptically. "Of course he would have."

"How can you say that?" Lisbon burst out. "You barely know him."

"I know him well enough. And from what you and Jane have both told me today, I don't find it at all hard to believe that Patrick Jane wouldn't hesitate for a moment to leave all he loved behind if he thought that was the best way to keep it out of harm's way."

That shut Lisbon up.

Darcy decided to lay it all on the line. "Lisbon, frankly, I don't care what there is between you and Jane. You can keep doing this dance around each other for the rest of your lives, if you like, but while I don't see that it's making either one of you particularly happy, it's really none of my business," she said bluntly. "All I care about is bringing down Red John like the dog that he is."

To her surprise, Lisbon laughed at this. "No wonder Jane likes you," she said.

"I can't say I share the sentiment, exactly," Darcy said wryly. "But he certainly is interesting, isn't he?"

"Yes," Lisbon sighed. "He is that."

Darcy looked at her. "He does care for you, you know. I didn't realize how much until he came here today."

Lisbon's face twisted, but she didn't say anything.

"Think about the protective detail, won't you?" Darcy said, standing up to get ready for her next meeting. "I promised Jane I'd try to convince you and I'd love it if he stayed in a cooperative mood."

"I wouldn't count on it," Lisbon muttered. "Those kinds of moods tend to be pretty few and far between, when it comes to Jane."

"Still. I'd like to do what we can to keep you safe."

Lisbon hesitated. "All right. I'll think about it."

Darcy picked up her briefcase. "That's all I ask."

Lisbon stood awkwardly in front of the desk. "Hey Susan?" she said tentatively.

Darcy met her gaze. "Yes?"

"Thanks," she said softly.


	3. Chapter 3

Jane brought Lisbon a cup of tea in her office at half past three. "Hello," he greeted her.

She gave him a sidelong glance. "Hello, yourself."

He set the tea down next to her. "Time for a break," he announced.

To his surprise, she agreed without a fight, picking up her tea and sitting down next to him on the couch.

"So, I heard you went to see Agent Darcy this morning," she said casually, taking a sip of her tea.

Jane paused with his cup halfway to his lips. "Oh? Where'd you hear that?"

She smirked. "From Agent Darcy."

"Ah." He sipped his own tea. "You went to see her?"

"Yup."

"You didn't trust that I would go on my own?"

"You told me to my face you weren't going to go!"

"Meh. You knew I was going to go eventually."

She stared at him. "No, I didn't. How would I know that?"

He grew very interested in his tea. "Well, now that we have Lorelei in custody, it would be deeply inconvenient if the FBI was convinced I was working for Red John and tried to prevent me from interviewing her."

"Why would the FBI do that, when she's in our custody?"

"They might try to take the case away from us, now that we finally have a solid lead."

"Uh huh," Lisbon said, clearly not buying it.

"So, what did you two talk about?" he asked hastily, blowing on his tea to cool it.

"You, and your idiotic schemes. I told her about that video of her that Red John sent you, and how you manipulated evidence to get her off the case."

He sipped his tea. "Trying to paint me as the chivalrous protector? She's never going to buy that."

"I think she did, actually, but it turned out not to be necessary, in the end. She'd already decided you are not, in fact, at the beck and call of a notorious serial killer." Lisbon raised her teacup to him. "Congratulations."

He grinned. "Thank you. Any other points of interest I should be aware of?"

"I told her if I was her, I'd think you _were_ Red John, so I understood where she was coming from on the whole thinking you're one of Red John's minions thing."

"Helpful. Thanks for going to bat for me on that."

"She also told me you asked her to put a protective detail on me."

"Yes."

She sighed. "I can take care of myself, Jane."

He looked at her seriously. "Can you, Lisbon? Could Wainwright? Could Bosco?"

"That's not fair," she whispered.

"Why not? Do you think they were bad agents? Not as good as you?"

"Of course not!"

He nodded. "Right. They were good agents. They were trained the same way as you, they had the same weapons as you, and Red John still got the drop on them."

She looked away.

He reached out tentatively and took her hand in his. She started in surprise, but allowed him to take it without protest, just as she had in the desert. "Will you do it for me, Lisbon?" he said softly. "Let Darcy put a detail on you?"

"Why should I do it for you?" Lisbon asked, her eyebrows raised.

He met her eyes. "So I never have to go through again what I did when I found my wife and daughter."

Dammit. How was she supposed to refuse him when he said something like that? Her throat was tight. "Fine," she muttered. "I'll let a couple of suits follow me around for awhile, if you think it's so important."

"I do." He surprised her then by lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to the back of her knuckles. "Thank you," he said softly.

Lisbon swallowed and looked at their joined hands, which he had placed back on his knee. "Darcy thinks Red John may come after me to get to you," she said hesitantly.

He sipped his tea again, but did not relinquish her hand. "It seems likely," he agreed. "He knows for certain now how important you are to me."

That makes one of us, Lisbon thought, but there was no point in voicing this thought aloud, so she remained silent and sipped her tea.

He turned his blue eyes to hers. "In case you were wondering, in the list of the things that are important to me, you're pretty much at the top of the list."

Lisbon had no idea what to say to such a huge statement. "Oh, I...uh… ditto," she said lamely.

He ignored her clumsy response. "In fact, it's probably safe to say that you *are* the list. I'm sorry if my leaving made you doubt that."

"Yeah, well," she said awkwardly, still processing the ramifications of what they'd just shared. "Just don't let it happen again. The leaving thing, I mean."

He squeezed her hand. "I have no intention of it, my dear."

They sat there a long while, drinking their tea.

He kept his hand in hers and she held tight to his, neither willing to let the other go.


End file.
